


A Brief History of Kent and Karaoke

by omgericzimmermann (HMSLusitania)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Kent and karaoke are not supposed to go together, M/M, but oh boy do they
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-12 21:17:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7949500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HMSLusitania/pseuds/omgericzimmermann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short history of Kent and Karaoke, and the times that intersects with his cute teammate Swoops.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Brief History of Kent and Karaoke

**Author's Note:**

> Me, Monday: Ooh! I know! I'm gonna start a [Halloween writing challenge!](http://omgericzimmermann.tumblr.com/13-days-of-halloween) I should write those stories.  
> Me, Friday: I should start the [superhero AU](http://archiveofourown.org/series/507432) I've been meaning to write!  
> Me, Saturday: I'm gonna write a fic about Kent!!!  
> Me, later on Saturday: ...why am I like this.

**1\. 22 by Taylor Swift**

Kent has been in Vegas for nearly four years, he’s been legally allowed to go out with the boys for one. That doesn’t mean he hasn’t been out with them before, but it’s only the second birthday he can legally get fucked up.

Which of course means karaoke.

“Seriously?” the new trade asks, drinking his beer and watching while Kent flips through the song options. “It’s the Fourth of July, and you want to go out for karaoke?”

“Who gives a fuck about the Fourth of July? It’s my goddamn birthday,” Kent replies, sticking his tongue out at the new guy. “And as your captain, I can and will order you to sing Barbie Girl if you don’t pick on your own.”

New Guy rolls his eyes but takes the list anyway. Kent has no regrets about this part of his life. At least, none that he’ll cop to sober.

The coordinator calls his name and he hops up onto the stage, while Elsa, Hearts, Jeff, and New Guy watch with bemused looks. The music starts and even though Elsa, Hearts, and Jeff look confused, New Guy starts laughing.

“It feels like a perfect night to dress up like hipsters,” Kent sings into the microphone. New Guy has dissolved into fits of laughter on the table while the others just look baffled. Then he gets to the chorus, “I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling twenty-two,” and they cotton on.

New Guy doesn’t stop laughing, and Kent decides he’ll fit just fine with the rest of the team.

* * *

**2\. Do I Wanna Know? by the Arctic Monkeys**

Kent has two Stanley Cups. He’s the youngest captain to ever win one, and he’s all of twenty-four years old. He trusts his team with his life, even New Guy, who is no longer technically new, is technically named Nate, and is typically referred to as Swoops. He shouldn’t still pretend to haze him, since Swoops is more than three years older than him, but Kent’s that kind of asshole like that sometimes.

It’s just the little stuff, like towel whipping him after practice or stealing the olives out of his drinks when they’re all out together. Swoops tolerates it, and it usually even makes him laugh. And yeah, Kent can work with that (although he’s not quite sure why he’s working with anything since the last time he dated a teammate, well…anyway).

This time it’s Swoops’ birthday when they go out for karaoke. Some fool (Elsa, but who’s counting) decided that Kent got to plan the party.

“No, come on birthday boy, you have to go first,” Kent insists once they’re a few drinks into the night. Swoops rolls his eyes, but gets up to the stage anyway. The music starts and Kent acknowledges much better this time around that Swoops has a nice voice, all smoky, the kind that burns like expensive scotch. He’s singing “Do I Wanna Know?” and Kent realises he’s a little hot under the collar after a minute, and he’s not entirely sure he can blame it on the alcohol. Swoops is doing everything he can not to look anyone in the eye while he sings, but at the line, “I’m constantly on the cusp of trying to kiss you” he meets Kent’s eye. Kent doesn’t know if it’s an accident, or if it’s intentional, but he does know his world shifts just ever so slightly.

* * *

 

**3\. Head Over Feet, by Alanis Morissette**

“Is it insanity or self-destructive behaviour that’s defined as doing the same thing over and over again and hoping for different results?” Kent asks from where he’s lying prone on Jeff’s floor. Jeff’s proper name, Dave Kowalski, has since been lost, and no one knows why exactly the Flames started calling him Jeff, but it was the name he’d introduced himself with when he got to his first practice with the Aces. No one had bothered to question it except Elsa.

“I dunno man, I think it depends on what exactly it is you’re doing over and over,” Jeff replies. “Hearts? Thoughts?”

“I think technically that’s the description of insanity,” Hearts says.

“But insanity can definitely be self-destructive,” Swoops says. Just the sound of his voice makes Kent’s chest constrict and he’s glad they’re all lying around in a drunken mess because otherwise he’d have to work on controlling his face. “What are you doing over and over again, Parser?”

“Putting up with your drunk asses,” Kent fires back, which gets him a whole lot of laughs. No one questions it, and no one seems to want to pry further, because yeah, no, Kent’s current favourite brand of insanity is falling for a teammate. Again. And expecting it to end differently. “Okay. Okay. It is two in the morning, Hearts is getting fucking _married_ in forty-eight hours and we haven’t done a single stupid thing.”

“I mean, seriously,” Swoops agrees. “Some bachelor party this is. There were no strippers, no one jumped out of a cake--”

“Parser is the only one of us who’d actually fit in a cake,” Jeff points out.

“Look, if that’s where this has to go, then that’s where this has to go,” Kent replies. He’s more than willing to jump out of a cake for Hearts’ bachelor party, but he didn’t prepare that, since he’s not the best man. He’s definitely a groomsman and he’s Katie’s favourite Ace after Hearts himself, but no, instead it’s Elsa.

“Elsa, you’ve been remiss in your duties,” Swoops informs him, throwing a pillow across the living room at Elsa’s head. The goalie flinches, but the pillow hits him anyway. “Okay. Come on.”

He stands first, then reaches down to pull Kent to his feet. Swoops is built like a normal sized hockey player, so he almost sends Kent’s tiny form across the room by accident, which absolutely does not make Kent think about what it might be like to have Swoops pick him up and throw him around in other circumstances.

They peel their teammates off the floor and head out, because it’s Vegas. They live in the place where other people flock to make bad decisions, and that kind of does things to a person. In his drunken state, Kent wonders how different he would be if the Aces hadn’t had first pick in 2009. He wonders if he’d be a totally different person if it had been the Bruins or the Stars or the Falcs. But then they get to the bar and he can’t dwell.

Hearts looks around at the scantily clad girls on stripper poles and sinks low into his seat with his head in his hands mumbling something about Katie killing him. Kent lifts a hand in greeting to one of his friends who happens to work there and then catches Swoops watching with a raised eyebrow.

“What?” he asks.

“Girlfriend?” Swoops asks.

“Nah,” Kent says. “Not really my type.”

He drinks so that he doesn’t have to specify what his type is, exactly. Because it just so happens to be tall, black haired hockey players.

“Nah, come on Swoops, you’ve been with us for how many years and you still think Parser dates?” Elsa exclaims, sounding deeply offended.

“Thanks,” Kent replies.

“You mean our captain who has literally never had anyone over to his house and about whose personal life we know literally nothing?” Swoops asks. He goes to throw his olive at Elsa but Kent catches it and pops it in his mouth. “Aside from the fact he’s an olive stealing parasite.”

Kent can’t help himself when he starts giggling.

It’s nearly four when it’s time to go, and Kent is too drunk to stand properly. He’s also too drunk to protest when Swoops throws him over his shoulder. Kent kicks his legs up to try and get down, but it doesn’t work very well. He does, on the other hand, have a very perfect view of Swoops’ ass.

“Swoops,” Kent says, smacking him in the ass. “Swoops. I realised something.”

“And what would that be, Kent?”

Kent stalls, because Swoops has never called him Kent before. He bounces back though.

“I’m head over feet,” he says, giggling again.

“I swear to god if you start singing Alanis Morissette--”

So of course Kent does.

“You’ve already won me over!” he belts into the night. Of course it’s Vegas, so there’s a whole lot of people already around and if he’s being honest, it’s not that uncommon a sight for the captain of Vegas’s hockey team to be carried down the street by one of his teammates. “In spite of me! And don’t be alarmed if I fall head over feet!”

Swoops just sighs tiredly.

* * *

**4\. Raise Your Glass by P!nk**

Hearts’ wedding is perfect. Kent didn’t doubt it would be since Katie had been directly responsible for everything. In addition to him being her favourite Ace aside from her husband, she is Kent’s favourite SOAP. He manages to sneak in a dance with the bride a little bit after the ceremony and she’s positively radiant.

“Kent, are you ever gonna find yourself a nice girl?” she asks.

“Nope,” Kent says. She gives him an inquisitive look. “Not exactly my type.”

“What isn’t? A stable relationship?” Katie asks.

Kent sighs. “Girls,” he replies.

Katie squints at him for a second and then nods decisively. “Well in that case could you please have sex with Nate before the tension kills you and all your loved ones?”

“Pardon me?” Kent says, choking on his own spit. He hadn’t thought he was that obvious.

“Oh, I think you heard me plain as day, Kent,” she says. Now she’s giving him a fierce look like she’s about to send him to his room if he doesn’t comply with her wishes. She’s all of five foot three and her brand new husband is a remarkably giant defenceman, and Kent is worried for Hearts should he ever do something Katie doesn’t approve of. “He’s over at the bar last time I saw him.”

Kent flounders for words for a moment, and then she gives him a little push towards the open bar. True to her words, Swoops is standing under the twinkle lights that form a canopy over the entire reception. He’s mixing something in a shaker and grins when he sees Kent.

“Hey Cap,” he says, grabbing a second glass. “I was gonna try to find you.”

“For drinks?” Kent asks, and maybe he’s standing a little too close. He doesn’t even know if Swoops likes men, which seems like a terrible oversight now that he’s feeling bold. But Kent doesn’t actually know how to quit anything, so worst case scenario, Swoops is up for contract negotiations at the end of next season and if he needs to, he can get the hell out.

Which, holy shit, that makes Kent like the worst kind of person doesn’t it, expecting that, should his own shitty behaviour deeply affect someone, it’s going to be up to them to change their career choices and—

“I made too much,” Swoops says, neatly interrupting Kent’s train of thought. “Don’t worry, there are olives.”

Kent accepts the jar of cocktail olives that Swoops is offering and pops the lid. “Do you even like olives?”

“No, I order martinis specifically so that you will steal my garnish,” Swoops replies. Kent gives him a questioning look, but can’t actually tell if Swoops is being serious or completely deadpan. Then Swoops shrugs. “That or I like you enough to let you.”

“Aww, Swoops, you like me?” Kent asks, waggling his eyebrows.

“God you’re such an asshole, Parson,” Swoops says, but he looks simply put upon and affectionately annoyed, rather than actually mad. He pours both their drinks, drops more olives in Kent’s glass, and hands it over. He pauses before drinking, an ear tipped towards the speakers. “Is this Pink?”

“Katie’s favourite,” Kent replies. “Come on, Swoops, raise your glass.”

Swoops laughs and for reasons Kent can’t explain to himself or others, they link elbows before drinking very quickly. Kent’s heartrate when they lower their glasses but don’t move apart is not the heartrate of a professional athlete; rather, it’s the heartrate of a nervous teenage boy touching his crush for the first time.

“You never actually said,” Swoops says, quietly, barely audible above the music. “What your type is.”

Kent takes a shakier breath than he’d care to admit while he meets Swoops’ dark eyes. “You know me,” he says, going for a chuckle and barely missing a squawk. “Tall, dark, and handsome.”

Their elbows are still linked when Swoops laughs. “Fitting, since you’re small and blond.”

Kent rolls his eyes. “Yeah? And what’s your type? Because you can give me shit all you want about no one on the team having ever been to my house, but like, none of us even know where you--”

His “live” is cut off by Swoops backing him into the table and kissing him. Kent sets his glass down as quickly as he can so that he can better grab Swoops by the lapels and keep him where he is.

“Around the corner from you,” Swoops says, and it takes Kent’s brain a minute to process what he’s saying.

“Wait, really?” Kent asks.

“Close enough that your cat’s stolen my mail,” Swoops replies, sliding his hands down Kent’s sides and sending fire through Kent’s veins.

“She has never brought me mail addressed to Nate Jordan before,” Kent protests, hooking his leg around the back of Swoops’ because apparently they could be making out right now and they’re _not_ and that’s just not okay.

“No, I watched her eat it,” Swoops says. “Awkward conversation with my sister about why I never replied to her birthday invitation. ‘No, sorry sis, never got it. My captain’s cat looked me in the eye and ate it.’”

“Yeah, she does that,” Kent admits, embarrassed for his cat’s behaviour, but on the other hand, apparently kissing Swoops is on the table and it’s not currently happening. “Wait but seriously, you live around the corner from me and you’ve never had any of us over?”

Swoops sighs, his hands on Kent’s hips. His fingers flex and Kent thinks it might be because he’s trying not to pull Kent closer.

“I was worried one of you would find my porn stash and freak out,” Swoops says. Kent’s absolutely sure it’s a lie, but he’s not about to call him on it.

“Well shit, Nate, why have a stash of gay porn? Wouldn’t you rather we recreate it?” Kent asks.

Swoops rolls his eyes. “If the answer wasn’t yes, I would be telling you what a terrible line that is,” he says.

“Since the answer’s yes, maybe we should figure out how to be naked together immediately,” Kent replies, grabbing Swoops by the lapels and pulling him down so that Kent can kiss him again. It’s exactly what Kent wants and from the way Swoops groans into his mouth, it’s what Swoops was looking for too.

And yes, maybe it’s a terrible, impulsive idea, but then, that’s what Kent’s always been good at.

**Author's Note:**

> About the Aces as I have conceived them:  
> \- Nate "Swoops" Jordan, forward, left wing  
> \- Dave "Jeff" Kowalski, defence  
> \- Jean-Luc "Elsa" Richard, goalie  
> \- Thomas "Hearts" Delacoeur, defence  
> (-Katie Delacoeur, Hearts' wife)


End file.
